Chapter 6: Marriage?

Louis's POV

"Marriage?" Her voice cracked on the word. "You're getting married?"

I leaned back in the leather booth, studying her reaction. "It's just business, Rachel. A Mitchell family arrangement."

"To a gymnast?" She spit out the word with difficulty."Some teenage Olympic wannabe?"

"World champion, actually." I couldn't help the smirk that crossed my face. "But don't worry yourself about it. This marriage is simply a move against the Russo family. Nothing more."

Rachel's eyes filled with tears, "She'll be living in your house, sharing your bed..."

I set my glass down and moved closer, letting my fingers trail along her bare shoulder. "The marriage won't last long. She's just bait for Marcus Russo. Once he makes his move, the game is over."

"You're going to use her as bait?" Rachel's voice hitched. "That's cruel, even for you."

I laughed softly. "Since when did you develop a conscience? Last week you were suggesting we run one of your rival dancers out of town."

She pouted, pressing herself against me. "That was different. This is... marriage. What if you fall for her?"

"Fall for her?" I couldn't keep the disdain from my voice. "She's a teenage gymnast who's being sold by her stepfather to pay his debts. What could she possibly offer me that you don't?"

Rachel relaxed slightly at that, though her fingers still clutched possessively at my shirt. "Promise me nothing will change between us."

Instead of answering, I kissed her. It was easier than making promises we both knew I might break. She melted against me, desperate and clinging, just the way I liked her.

When I pulled back, her lipstick was smeared. "I need to go. Early meeting tomorrow."

"Stay," she whispered, trying to pull me back. "Please."

I disentangled myself and stood. "I'll call you tomorrow."

The hurt in her eyes as I left was real this time. Sometimes I forgot how deeply she felt things, how much of her need for me wasn't an act. It should have made me feel something – guilt, perhaps, or at least concern. Instead, I felt nothing but mild irritation at her emotional display.

The water was perfectly heated as I cut through it, lap after lap in my rooftop pool. The physical exertion helped clear my head, washing away the lingering scent of Rachel's perfume and the taste of her desperate kisses.

My phone buzzed as I was toweling off. Mother's name flashed on the screen. I considered ignoring it, but that would only lead to more calls.

"Yes, Mother?"

"Louis, darling." Her voice dripped honey and warning. "When are you planning to meet your future bride? The poor girl's been here for days."

I wrapped the towel around my waist, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows. "I've been busy."

"Too busy to meet the woman you're marrying in two weeks? Really, Louis. I raised you better than this."

"You and Father chose her. I don't see why I need to be involved in the details."

"She's quite lovely, you know. A true champion. Much more suitable than that... dancer you've been wasting time with."

My jaw clenched. "Rachel isn't your concern, Mother."

"Everything about you is my concern. Especially when you're consorting with gold-digging strippers—"

"Goodbye, Mother." I hung up, resisting the urge to throw the phone.

She was right about one thing – I couldn't avoid meeting the girl forever. But the thought of making small talk with some teenage athlete held zero appeal. I'd given my word that I'd marry her, provide for her, and eventually let her serve as bait for Marcus Russo. Beyond that, I had no interest in playing happy couples.

"Hiding from your future wife?"

I turned to find Daniel standing by the pool, looking annoyingly amused. "Don't you knock?"

"I did. You were too busy brooding to hear." He settled into one of the lounge chairs. "So, what's the plan with Rachel?"

"What about her?"

"You told her about the marriage?"

I nodded, pouring us both a scotch. "She took it about as well as expected."

"Is she really worth all this?" Daniel's voice was careful, neutral. "The sneaking around, the lies..."

"She understands me." I handed him his drink. "Knows what I need, never asks for more than I'm willing to give. Do you know how rare that is?"

"And the crying, the scenes, the constant drama – that doesn't bother you?"

I shrugged. "It's entertaining."

"Louis." My brother's voice held an edge now. "Are you serious about any of this?"

"Of course not." I smiled, cold and sharp. "It's all a game, brother. Rachel knows her role, the gymnast will learn hers, and eventually Marcus Russo will make his move. Then the real fun begins."

"Speaking of my future bride, want to see the prenup?"

I pulled up the document on my tablet, handing it to him. Daniel scanned it, eyebrows rising. "This is... thorough."

"She gets nothing if we divorce, minimal allowance while married, no access to family accounts or properties. Father approved it this morning."

"And if she dies during the marriage?"

My smile widened. "Then her grieving husband inherits everything, of course. A detail I'm sure won't escape Marcus Russo's notice when he inevitably investigates her."

Daniel handed the tablet back. "You really think he'll target her?"

"It's what we're counting on. The Russos are predictable in their need for revenge. When they make their move against her, we'll be ready."

"And the girl? What happens to her?"

I shrugged. "Collateral damage. At least she'll have a few weeks of luxury before the end."

Daniel stood, shaking his head. "Sometimes I forget how cold you can be."

"No, brother. You forget how cold we all have to be." I met his eyes. "This is what being a Mitchell means. Father taught us that."

"Father taught us to protect family."

"And that's exactly what I'm doing. Protecting our interests, strengthening our position." I turned back to the window. "One teenage gymnast is a small price to pay."

"Just... try to meet her before the wedding, at least?" Daniel headed for the door. "For Mother's sake, if nothing else."

I waved him off, already reaching for my phone. Rachel would be waiting at the club by now, probably three drinks in and ready to prove how much better she was than my future wife.

Perfect.

Tomorrow I'd deal with family obligations and unwanted brides. Tonight belonged to simpler pleasures.

I quickly changed and got ready to go to my nightclub, of course I would be seeing Rachel so I picked an outfit I knew Rachel liked. Let her think she still had power over my choices. Let her believe nothing would change.